Fragile Clay: To Shape a Vessel 0:1
by Kaoru Shimitsu
Summary: Miramoto Hiroshi's life was going great. He had a cool girlfriend who was hot, his sister is coming home to stay in Japan while his parents head to America to handle some business ends. Life is pretty good, but there's no Guarantee for the future.
1. Prelude

**The Search**

_T__he heart long desires comforts touch_

_It guides thy actions, master of compassion_

_Hence yearnings guide thee overmuch_

_In absence of thy true loves satisfaction._

_But what love __be__thine__ truly then?_

_Or what words so supple then defined this thing?_

_For it evades __thine__ mortal ken_

_With as much substance as a departing dream._

_Yet first gaze upon the bloom_

_Reveals __thine__ folly and then thy mortal flaws._

_Love sought then is love found too soon,_

_For from thy seeking is the evasions cause._

_Pain is fleeting, truth comes to light;_

_Heart intemperate and thus deceiving tool._

_For love's illusion then takes flight,_

_And thusly you have been made into the fool._

_Weep not for shadows passed this way,_

_Look toward the dawn, and ready __thine__ embrace._

_Wipe clear the clouds of faulty grace_

_And prepare thy__self for true love's divine face._

**Fragile Clay: To Shape a Vessel**

**A ****Ranma****Fanfiction**** Story****By: Kaoru Shimitsu**

**Based upon "The Fragile Clay" Universe**

The air was crisp, scented lightly of after rain. The sky was a cool blue pastel; poignant and pure. The feel of moisture hung heavily in the air, reminder of the rain that came before. I waited in the courtyard with my bag slung over my shoulder, standing beneath one of various trees at Furenkin.

"Hiroshi!" She called. Turning, I saw her running towards me, Her long chestnut hair bobbing lightly up and down with the rhythm of her gait. She paused a few feet from me, a smile on her face. "You waited for moi?"

I laughed lightly, rubbing the back of my head, "You're my girlfriend, right? Why wouldn't I wait?" She is Suzuhara Mihoko, a year three student at Furenkin. Slightly older than me, but I can't complain too much. She's got legs to die for, as Daisuke would say.

She likes Gymnastics, not the rhythmic kind like Kodachi. She also likes baseball. High spirited and energetic, it's fun to be around her. She's also my girlfriend.

Her arm hooked mine as we began to walk, she leans near me possessively, making me feel wanted. "Well, you're always wandering off with Daisuke somewhere. It's nice, thanks Hiroshi-kun," She smiles up at me, though I looked away red faced.

Waving my hand in midair, I grin lopsidedly, "It's nothing. So no practice today?" I know by her expression that something is troubling her, her eyebrows furrow as she looks up at me.

"Of course not, Hiroshi-kun. I took the day off today, all the girls know," She cocks her head sideways, "What, have you forgotten?" She is cute, with a slightly upturned nose, delicate aristocratic cheekbones and jaw line, with big brown eyes.

I stared for a long moment, recalling Sayuri's pool party a couple months back. The enticing bikini that Mihoko had worn really showed off her assets, a nice red and black number with a material that looked slick and as if it should slide off of those pert round-

I chuckled lightly, shaking my head, "Of course I haven't forgotten that we've been dating for three months," I think again in my head, it was about the right time, though I wasn't sure that I remembered the exact date. It doesn't matter, her smile lights up, affirming my suspicions.

She's speechless a moment, a strange expression in her eyes. I suppose she expected the usual rigmarole the other guys give when their memories fail them. "Oh. Uhm, so… what were we going to do tonight, then?"

I opened my mouth to respond when the wall next to us flashed briefly out of the corner of my eye. Turning to look, I had only a moment to yell before exploding rock collided with the soft parts of my face.

Somehow, the world was spinning and tilting, even though I could feel ground against my back. I laughed lightly as I heard the nonsensically typical reason for my concussion.

"Come back here, Ranma, and take your punishment!" The rasping voice of Hibiki Ryouga belted out. I saw a blur pass me by as arms draped around my chest, pulling me free of the rubble as I chuckled some more. It was all so funny and regular. I think my nose was bleeding.

"Hiroshi-kun! Are you alright?" Mihoko's voice echoed like she was in a well, making my head hurt.

Staring up at the blotchy, amorphous blob of my girlfriend's face, I gave a halfhearted smile. "I'm fine, I think. Though can we get off the merry-go-round?"

"Hit your head?" She sighed, her head shaking as she kisses my forhead, "Guess they're back from China, huh?"

My vision started improving after a few minutes, "Yes and probably, no telling with Ryouga."

The sun was suddenly blocked by an imposing figure wielding a bokken. "So, the fiend Saotome has once more decided to curse the shores of Tokyo with his malodious sorcery," The bokken is thrust at Mihoko's face, "You there, maiden. Is the injury of your paramour a result of Saotome's demonic hatred for the peasantry?"

Mihoko scowls, opening her mouth to speak before Tatewake Kunou begins to answer his own question.

"Witness, heavens! That I, your humble servant, Tatewake Kunou will bring punishment down upon the dark sorcerer for his disdain for the common plebian masses! LET JUSTICE BE SWIFT AND SURE!" Kunou wasted no time as he began rushing toward the Dojo.

Somewhere in the distance, I heard a faint, "…where am I now! Damn you Ranma!..."

Mihoko helped me up, though I leaned on her heavily before I felt her tense. I squeezed my right hand and her face turned crimson. "Hiroshi, let go of my boob."

Staring down at my hand I squeeze again. I'm sure there was a stupid grin on my face at the time as I thought, Woah, they're really soft.

The next moment, The world was full of Stars.


	2. Meet Mom

Allow me to introduce myself. You see, my name is Miramoto Hiroshi. I am sixteen, and go to Furenkin High School. I'm a generally average student, and I have to confess that I sleep in classes occasionally.

Of course, some of you might've seen me around Furenkin. Usually Daisuke or myself end up in some tough spots due to our mutual acquaintance, a one Saotome Ranma. He means well, it's just his life is crazy out of control most of the time.

My girlfriend, Mihoko, started dating me back in spring during break. I guess she felt I was a charming public speaker, not that I go out of my way to be in the spotlight. Really, I was tutoring her in our English literature class and things kind of got heated between the two of us.

My mom and dad are a little more atypical. I guess you could say they're a good pair, they make a great team. Mom is the gung ho one, and dad is a lot more reserved and patient. If not for mom, dad would've been stuck in Japan rather than travelling the world.

For that matter, my sis probably wouldn't have met her late husband, Connor, if my dad hadn't summered in Dublin one year. It's funny how so many things seem to connect out of circumstance, ne?

Daisuke? He's my closest and dearest friend. A total egghead though, not that I hold it against him. He and I have the same sort of tastes in girls, we quip about it all the time, even though he's too scared to really ask one out. Not that I can blame him with his home life being what it is.

Nerima, where all of us live, is usually a pretty quiet place. Well, up until about half a year ago when the Saotome's moved in. Since then, there hasn't been a single night where some sort of insanity hasn't happened.

I'm sure you've heard the stories. Crazed martial artists come calling at all hours of the day, wacky races and contests with even more bizarre forms of martial arts. We're a resilient people, Nerimans. We've taken it all in stride, and it's kind of just part of who we are nowadays.

Of course, it's been really quiet for a couple of weeks. Ranma and the whole crew went to someplace in China to save Akane. Again.

But that's their story. This one's more about Mihoko and I. Speaking of which… let's get back to that.

Where was I? Oh, right.

When I came to, Mihoko was holding an icepack to my face. I felt sore all over, and I doubt it was entirely from the exploding wall which Ryouga had launched at me unintensionally.

"I'm sorry, Hiroshi-kun! I over reacted." She gave a supportive smile, trying to convey her apology to me.

"Nnngh, I'm confused, Miho-chan. I mean, you and I have made out before, and I've copped a feel before, so why hit me?" My head still had a loud hum, like the emergence alert system they play on the television for tsunami warnings.

She scowled at me, crossing her arms beneath the offending bosom. "Not in public we don't! Besides, I did apologize. Just be more careful next time!" She looks at me sidelong, sort of a glare as I shift on the couch, looking around. I was back at home, in the living room.

"Well, I'd appreciate it if next time you warned me or something? It's not like I haven't had a concussion before, but I'd prefer my brain remain in some semblance of working order at least till I'm out of my teen years," I pause as I notice that tension in her shoulders again, sighing winsomely I grin. "I'm sorry for groping you in public, Miho-chan. It will not happen again."

I lower my head to bow, and promptly fall off the couch and onto said appendage. I'm not really sure how I did it, either. "Ow," I vocalized with great profundity.

She pulled me back up onto the couch, though the room kept moving. "Be still, you baka! Or I'm going to give you some permanent brain damage to that fool head of yours!" She said it in the most endearing manner, though. That kind of way that you say you're angry but that you really found it funny?

"Yeah, how did I end up on my head again?" I said. Or I think it was me, but it came from the left.

My mom came in with a tray of tea. She was dressed in western clothing, some jungle green cargo Capri pants and a black tankini with Alfred E. Newman on the front of it. Her hair tied up in pigtails on either side of her head as she smiled at the two of us. On my side of things, I saw three of her.

Mom has always looked young for her age, just like dad. She looked like she could be my older sister, not my mother. She had a habit of acting her apparent age, rather than her actual age.

"Hiro-kun, you've got to stop injuring yourself whenever your girlfriend is around. It's bad luck, and I'd imagine rather painful, dear," She set the tray on the coffee table, putting her hands on her hips. She smiled at Mihoko, nodding informally at her. "Hello, Mihoko-chan."

Mihoko stood and bowed formally, as she had every time she'd met my mother, "Hello again, Miramoto-sama."

Mom scrunched her nose again, holding up a finger in mid air before wagging it at Mihoko, "For the last time, Mihoko-chan. Call me Yui."

My girlfriend bowed again, deeper this time, "Sumimasen, Miramoto-sama… I just don't think it's appropriate," She kept her bow for a moment before standing again, being sure not to look up at my mother.

Mom heaved an exasperated sigh, throwing her hands up, "I don't get your taste, Hiro-kun. I really don't go for the traditional sort. I've got some great girlfriends that you could-"

"MOM!" I yelled, groaning as my fingers tangled in my short russet hair, my head a series of taiko drums. "Seriously, Mihoko is RIGHT THERE!" I pointed, as if mom couldn't see her to begin with.

Mom looked at her again, as if seeing her for the first time. "Well, yes. I've noticed that. Just standing like a scarecrow in my living room." Mom smiled again at Mihoko, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Mihoko stiffens and looks like she's about to cry.

"Oh, don't be such a baby. Would you like some tea, dear?" She kept her hand there a moment, her smile seeming a little facile. She was probably thinking whether she should be nicer since we'd been dating three months.

"H-hai!" Mihoko said it pretty hastily, leaning down to fetch the tea to free herself from my mom's arm. Sometimes I forget that mom can be kinda scary, even when she's not trying to be.

My girlfriend pours the tea and hands it to me. It's bitter with the taste of medicine, the heat hits my stomach and diffuses, warming my body throughout. I taste the faint aftertaste of raspberries. I mouth my pleasure at the flavor as I sink into the couch, savoring the warming sensation.

Mihoko holds her own cup as she watches me, her eyes as big as a mouse that's just seen an owl. She turns her head almost woodenly to my mother.

She tilts her head sideways in a coy expression. "Don't be silly, why would I poison my own baby boy? Drink up, dear."

Mihoko nods numbly before carefully sipping her tea, her eyes widen as she looks down into the cup, "It's good," She says, half shocked.

She tosses hot tea all over my lap when mother claps suddenly, "I'm so pleased you like it!" My mother says in as formal a tone as she can muster.

I screamed bloody murder as one of my favorite body parts got seared by the tea. I grabbed one of the coverings for the couch to wipe off and then froze about as solid as Mihoko was. Despite the pain in my groin, I look at my mother, who has merely a displeased expression on her face.

I let go of the cloth, and almost instantly my mother produces a hand cloth of her own. For a moment, I think she's going to take care of it herself and I open my mouth to protest the embarrassment before she hands me the cloth. "You should be more careful, Mihoko-chan. Hiroshi is my only son you know."

My girlfriend was still stuck in the same pose as when she threw the cup. If I listened hard enough, I could have probably heard her heart beating. I dabbed at my groin, my back to my girlfriend and mother, my other hand occupied with my own cup of tea. I winced periodically… at least it wasn't boiling hot.

"H-hai! Gomen Nasai!" Mihoko squeeked out, shaking a bit as she bowed formally to my mother yet again.

Mom just stared at her for a long moment, one arm hanging down lazily while the other was on one hip. She gave me a half lidded, worried expression and sighed. "Dinner will be on at seven, Hiro-kun. If Mihoko-chan is staying, she is welcome join us."

Mihoko seemed to deflate in relief, "Domou, Miramo-"

"Provided she can call me by my name, that is. If she wants to call your dad Miramoto-sama, that's his business, but she's been dating you for three months now and I'd appreciate it if she at least considered my wishes. I mean, how am I supposed to be friends with her if she's so up tight all the time, Hiro-kun?" Mom made a pouty face. It would be strange on a woman her age, except… well, she doesn't look her age, after all.

"I'd love to be friends with her," She turns to look at Mihoko again raising her voice, "OI! YOU HEAR THAT IN THERE?" She yells, one hand cupped to her mouth to amplify it.

I give my mother a flat look, "Mom, Mihoko isn't deaf and she isn't hearing impaired." I sip my tea a bit more as my mom rubs her head in consternation.

"I- I'm not Yui-sama." My girlfriend looks as pale as bleach, her hands like vice-grips on the fabric of her school skirt. She looked ready for a heart attack.

Mom stared at her for about a minute and a half. I counted. She had this expression on her face, like Mihoko had just grown a mushroom right in the middle of her forehead. A huge purple polka dotted one.

Then mom laughed rather raucously, patting Mihoko on the shoulder with her hand again. "Okay, that'll have to do," She turned her eyes to me, she wore the look of the stern disciplinarian on her face. "Do not be late for dinner."

Her eyes turned back to Mihoko, "Enjoy your night, dear," And then mom turned and left, her house slippers soundless as she departed.

I finished my tea, setting the cup down as my head began to clear. "You know, you don't have to be stark raving terrified of my mom. She's really nice if you give her a chance."

My girlfriend turned to me slowly, her face some mixture of astonished and angry, "Your mother was Shinobi! And daughter of a clan leader! How can I NOT be terrified of her!"

"You know, when I told you that, I thought we'd agreed you wouldn't go around yelling it?" I sighed, rubbing the back of my head a bit. "Look, I don't know, Mihoko. She WAS, I mean, emphasis on WAS. Mom's side doesn't exactly come to the dinner parties."

Mihoko makes a fervent searching gesture with both her hands, "She's still-!"

"My mom?" I supply in interruption, giving Mihoko a stern look. "Yeah. She's my mom. She's retired, for the most part."

She nods, making an offering gesture with one hand. "See! It's that for the MOST part that makes me want to- to- run away whenever she starts being all nice and chummy with me, Hiroshi!" She paces back and forth a moment, trying to use up the nervous energy.

I looked at her with a pleading expression, tangling my fingers together as I leaned forward, my elbows resting atop my knees as I spoke, "Mihoko, if you aren't comfortable with Mom, maybe we should take things a bit slower. I mean, she's my mom. You're going to have to get used to her eventually."

She stopped pacing, turning to look at me, she opened her mouth to speak before shutting it quickly, biting her lip as she apparently reconsidered what she was going to say. "You're right. I'm being silly, I've met her several times now and each time I act like a jellyfish," She puts a hand to her forehead.

"I just don't understand her, Hiroshi. I mean, I thought I would, because you told me so much about her before. But she doesn't make sense to me. Why does she snub tradition like that? I mean, it's not appropriate for me to call her by her first name," She looks down at the tea before she steps around the coffee table, sliding onto the couch next to me and putting her hands on mine.

"Mom is Mom. It's just who she is. She makes it pretty obvious that her and tradition don't always get along, but if she were being mean to you, you'd know it Miho-chan," My voice took on a tender tone, I turned to look at Mihoko's face, smiling to encourage her.

She shook her head, seeming to miss my encouragement. "I guess it'll take a lot of getting used to," She leaned into me, her hair smelled faintly like saffron rice and cedar. I draped an arm around her and squeezed her lightly.

"Well, we should get going," I paused, amending my sentiment, "Urr, after I change pants."

The night was young yet, and we had some celebrating to do.


	3. A bit of tension

We went to the bakery, and bought some sweet rolls. I watched Mihoko quietly, my face placid and serene in the moment. She held the sweet roll delicately, in an attempt to keep her fingers from getting too sticky. I laughed lightly when she got icing on her nose, earning myself a soft jab to my shoulder.

I rubbed my shoulder, doing my best to look embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Miho-chan. You shouldn't be so serious, though, It's only icing," I paused a moment when she favored me with her glare. Grinning my lop-sided grin a rubbed the back of my head, "Want that I should lick it off?" I emphasized my words by licking my lips.

Which only caused her to glare all the more effectively, accompanied by a deep red coloring of her cheeks, "Hiroshi, Didn't I say earlier-" She began, before my waving hands dismissed the suggestion.

"Hey, I was only kidding, Miho-chan!" I half murmured under my breath, "I'd much rather lick other bits," before she smacked me hard on the back of the head.

"Hentai," She mouthed sternly, looking around to see if anyone else had heard me. "I wish you would stop acting like such a fool, Hiroshi. You're cute, but you embarrass me sometimes." She handed me her bun, licking her fingers and sticking them in her pockets as she looked away from me, probably to hide the blush.

I felt stung by what she said, wondering if perhaps I'd hurt her feelings too. "I'm sorry, Mihoko. I didn't mean to embarrass you, I was just making light."

She said something half-mumbled as well, sounding like, "Like you always do," accompanied by a heavy sigh. I was quiet for a little while, looking at the sticky buns in my hands and wondering what I was going to do with one of them before I stuffed the whole thing into my mouth and chewed for a moment before swallowing. Mihoko was always so serious. She was very cute, but she could be very tender about a lot of things at times.

So, I clammed up and kept my mouth shut, enjoying the walk in the park.

I offered her my arm, a bit surprised when she took it and sidled close to me. I sighed, saying nothing. Just enjoying her company.

We walked, Mihoko snacking lightly on her honey bun. The sky was a deep cerulean color, pink and orange framing the clouds as the sun was on its way down.

The air had a cool clean scent about it as I looked at Mihoko, only to find her looking at me with a thoughtful expression before her eyes widened and she looked away, her cheeks coloring again. I smiled, but said nothing, even though several smart-ass quips came to mind.

"A fair sky over, beauty so close at my side, a perfect moment," I breathed the haiku solemnly. Closing my eyes a moment, I listened to her breathing, and mine... the sound of the birds in the trees; savoring the moment with her arm in mine.

"Sometimes what we want, is not always what we need, like a fleeting dream," She answered in a hesitant tone. I blinked, opening my eyes and turning to look at her. Her eyes wore a sad expression for a moment, a distant sort of longing. At the time, I hadn't a clue what she could mean by it. I filed her words away for contemplation at a later date.

I touched my hand to hers, smiling. "Seems like three months has gone by so quickly, I'm still nervous about asking you out the first time. Not that you've made things easy on me in the least," My tone was quite serious, my expression matching it.

"Oh, Hiroshi. I'm sorry, your mom just rattled me a bit," She looked up into my eyes searchingly, I stared back in same. "She's- she's very nice, but it's just so unnerving to deal with a Japanese woman with such strong feelings against tradition."

I squeeze her hands, "Hey," I began, grinning as she looked up at me briefly. I turned my eyes up to the prismatic clouds in the deepening sky, speaking with a tenderness all my own, "Mom knows tradition better than most Japanese women. Being a ninja princess comes with a lot of duty and honor, and from the stories, Mom's father was very strict." I pause a moment, wondering if I should go on about such things without looking over my shoulder first. Then I decided I didn't care.

"From what I gather, there were quite a few boyfriends who didn't make the cut. Dad would never have made the cut, but my paternal Grandfather wasn't the sort of guy you crossed lightly either. I guess there was some mutual respect between my grandparents, even though Mom's side of the family hardly ever speaks to her since the marriage. Mom always said that Dad made her see things in a new light, and bucked tradition in his own ways," I smile, moving my arm from Mihoko's and wrapping it around her. "She also said that she drank a lot more of the kool aid on the matter than Dad did. I guess mom was wound really tight when she was young, and when Dad let her out, well..."

Mihoko pinched my side firmly, "That doesn't excuse the utter lack of courtesy, Hiroshi," I could tell she was serious, and that my mother's interactions with her had really troubled her.

"Well, she doesn't trust you," I fired back, honestly a bit miffed at how she was over-reacting to some faint criticism and jibing manner.

Mihoko pushed my from around her, "Doesn't trust me? What the heck did I do? She hardly knows me?"

I sighed, rubbing my eyes with my hands before giving her a perplexed expression, "It's not a matter of knowing you, but that doesn't help. You're dating her little boy, and she's had years of experience judging people's reactions and behavior. Something about you makes her uncomfortable, though I certainly can't place my finger on it."

She stood there stunned for a moment, standing there with her arms limp at her sides, before she ground her teeth and gave me an angry look, "What the hell is that supposed to mean, Hiroshi?" I saw her anger rising like the temperature in June.

Holding my hands up and waving frantically, my mouth opened and closed several times without anything coming out before I managed, "Woah, woah, woah! We're talking about my mom, NOT me! DEFINITELY not me!"

"You just made it sound like YOU have a problem with how I act, Hiroshi!" She jabbed a finger at my chest, holding it there a moment while she continues speaking through her teeth.

Normally, at this point, I'd apologize profusely and do my best to make the comment up to her... but for some reason that I couldn't fathom, I instead straightened and put my arms down. Regardless how hot or sexy she was, I wasn't about to be bullied by my girlfriend over something that really wasn't my fault. "Actually, yeah, I do in all honesty."

I could tell she had prepared a response to the reaction she normally would have gotten. The shock on her face was palpable. Literally, I mean, I could probably have scraped some shock off and bottled it for some prudent future use.

"You- I-" She floundered, her turn to look like a fish I thought inside. "Why?" She managed to squeak out, all the while I felt my heart sink for a moment.

"Mihoko, I care about you a lot, but we can't kiss in public. You're so serious, you don't like talking about me to your friends, you pick on me when I'm just being light-hearted. I mean, we've been at this for three months now. A lot of the time it's great, especially when we're at the movies and I can play stress-toy with your boobs," She began to look angry again, her fingers twitching into claws as she stared at me with a mixture of bafflement and rage. Before she could strike, I continued, "And even comments that could be considered lewd or insipid get under your skin far too easily. It isn't like I'm shouting to the world that we make out, or going around telling all the guys what kind of underwear you wear. Not that some of them haven't asked."

"You- you- YOU!" She punched me hard in the gut, causing me to lose breath as I held the spot where she had struck. "You arrogant, selfish jerk! Three months, and we're on a date, and you decide you're going to start insulting me! You- You- you think you're so great?! You think that there isn't anything that I could be irritated about? Maybe I don't want to talk about such things to other people! Maybe I think a relationship is private!"

I coughed, catching my breath as I looked up at her, "I never said anything like that, Mihoko... but three months, and I haven't ever said anything about the quirks that bother me. It isn't like they stop me from liking you, Mihoko... they're your quirks, they're parts of you. They may get on my nerves sometimes, but really, only when there's tension in a relationship do those little, minor things make a big stage showing on their own."

Her eyes were a bit misty as she clenched her fists, "Why are you being so mean? Why can't you just shut up about talking about boobs, and asses, and all the other girlie parts that you mention like they have a place in casual conversation!"

I straightened, sighing, "This isn't about me even mentioning that, Mihoko. Do you really consider that kind of stuff important? I mean, what if we were dating for a year, would that kind of stuff be off limits then?"

She threw her hands up, probably in frustration. "YES! You shouldn't ever talk about me as if my body is all that mattered to you!"

I grew more dour as she continued glaring at me, I clasped my hands together, "Saying such things doesn't diminish you as a person, this isn't about your body. This is about you as a person, and your reactions to the things around me as well as inside me. I can understand wanting some change, and I've been trying to curb my more lecherous terminologies when I've been around you. That has nothing to do with my mom, and you're missing the point. Maybe I go overboard sometimes, and maybe you have a point... but this appears to really bother you, and that-" I paused, getting a bewildered look on my face, "-That really bothers me."

I held my head, wondering why exactly I was behaving this way with my girlfriend. It took moments to track the line of thought for me; a practiced trait over many years with my grandfather. "It really bothers me that Mom doesn't trust you."

"Seems you and your Mother like being rude to people you have a problem with," She said before she turned and started storming off.

"She's afraid you're going to hurt me, Mihoko," It came on me suddenly. It made perfect sense, Mom had been through noble politics and some of the harshest training about human behavior and thought in her time as Shinobi. It wasn't just that she was naturally wary of others, it was that she sensed something in Mihoko that perhaps I was missing. I trusted my Mother, even when she might be wrong about the reasons.

Mihoko had stopped, standing about ten feet away. I stared at her back a long moment as she stood there. "Will you?" I asked her quietly, my heart feeling stretched and strained all of a sudden.

She whirled, looking at me with the same shocked expression as earlier. "How could you ask me that, Hiroshi? I'm your girlfriend!" Her voice was meak, tears clouding her eyes. She sniffled lightly as one rolled down her cheek. I felt like I had shrunk by a foot.

I grabbed that shrinking feeling and hauled it back up by the scruff of it's neck. I felt my own eyes moist, the sniffles threatening to invade soon as well. "How couldn't I ask it, Mihoko? Three months, if this is going anywhere, of course now would be when I started worrying."

"You KNOW me!" She pleaded, walking back over to me as she looked left then right, not wanting others to overhear a shaming argument between a couple. "How can you ask that when we've grown up together and have been dating for three months!"

I turned my eyes from her face, looking at the ground and studying the grass for a long moment. I half-wondered how vibrant and carefree it seemed, thirsting only for the sun and water. "But that's it, Mihoko. We've grown up together. We've only dated for three months," I looked again at her, my eyes less misted and my heart voiding itself of uncertainty. "We don't really know each other, and our personal quirks are grating against our mutual feelings."

I reached out to take her hand, she pulled it away. I took it again, holding it, "Miho-chan, I care for you. But these things that bother us, we need to talk about them at some point. We need to be honest with each other, or this isn't going anywhere."

She was quiet a moment, sniffling only, but she didn't jerk her hand out of mine. That was an improvement in the situation, at least. "It doesn't mean I don't like being with you, Miho-chan. I love being with you, and it isn't your body. I think you're smart, and I asked you out because I wanted to know you better. I don't know where that might go. Three months together is a while, and all these little things can't keep building up till we explode and argue with each other, Miho-chan. I think you know that."

She sniffled, "You're a jerk, Hiroshi," She said, looking up at me. Her eyes were a bit puffy from crying, which of course made me feel like a heel of the worst degree. "I- I guess you're right though."

Not that it mattered. I felt crummy from being upset with her over so trivial a thing as what my Mom thought. I still couldn't shake that feeling though, like I should be cautious myself. Maybe I should take a step back and take things a bit slower with her, rather than get so emotionally wrapped up. I promised myself that I'd find time to put it on my to do list for some future date.

I cuffed her chin, "Hey, no more tears. We're supposed to be on a date, and I'm sorry for spoiling it," I smiled to try and encourage her. "I really am sorry for hurting your feelings, Miho-chan... I'll try harder to, okay?

She sniffed again and smiled slightly at the corners of her mouth, "You'll try harder to hurt my feelings?" She quipped, playing on my unintentional words.

"Urr- You know what I mean," I smiled slightly, glad that she could at least find humour in the whole thing.

She pulled my arm back around her shoulder, leaning into me as we walked, "Just shut up for a while, Hiroshi."

I took her advice, the sky was starting to darken and I could see the beginnings of stars. We continued walking, not a word said between us for about half an hour. We headed to the theater, taking in a late showing of Kurosowa's "Seven Samurai" as part of the classics night at the local theater, though there was more handiwork than sitting at a movie implied. Well, for the first half of the movie... then as always, I got caught up in the show and began remembering a discussion with Daisuke. Before I knew it, the movie was over.

Looking over, I saw Mihoko asleep. I shook her lightly to rouse her, and for a moment she looked around in confusion before she scowled, "Z'it over?" she said gruffly, yawning into her hand. I nodded slowly, "You're pretty tired, huh?"

She blinked and shook her head, "No," She had a thoughtful look on her face, as if she were going to say something else, but she had declined to do so. "Mm, we should be heading back though, it is pretty late," She looked at her watch before she rose, and together we left the theater.

"Look at the moon," I gestured up into the sky, where the full moon seemed to hang in midair, large and dominating. I stared at it for a long moment before looking over at Mihoko, who was just staring forward with that thoughtful expression on her face. "Mihoko?"

"Mmm?" Her rich brown eyes looked up at mine, the moonlight reflected in them. "What about the moon?"

It was my turn to be perplexed, holding my hand up at the moon, "Well, I mean, it's beautiful. Don't you think so?"

"It's just the moon, Hiroshi... same moon as any other night," She looked tired, though I wasn't certain if it was from the movie and the date or if it was something else. Her words made me frown though.

"Except it's the moon on our three month anniversary. Don't you ever stop and look at the moon? The stars? I mean, it looks down on us, on all of us... imagine the things it's seen, the stories it could tell. The lonely moon longs in silence," I thought of how it might be, looking down on the spread of history at all the things both small and great transpiring. "Imagine if it was a moonless night, or if there was no moon... wouldn't that be terrible, Mihoko?"

She growled at me, "I'm tired, Hiroshi... it's just the moon. I've had a long day, and I'm not in the mood for looking at things. I just want to go home."

I closed my mouth, saying nothing else. It wasn't long before we were in front of her door.

She brushed her bangs back as she looked down, blushing, "Hiroshi, I'm sorry about what I said a little while ago about the moon. I just- I don't know. Today didn't really go as well as I'd thought, and- well, I'm just sorry."

I nodded, smiling slightly, "It's okay, Mihoko. I know how you feel... I was just trying to cheer you up."

She squeezed my hand, "Thanks... I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

I nodded, giving her a quick kiss on the lips. Which turned into a longer kiss. She smacked me on the shoulder when I grabbed her rear. "Okay, okay, I'm going!" I smiled at her, and she smiled back. I felt warm again, which contrasted so oddly with the cold I'd felt for most of the night.

I walked back home touching my lips and wondering why I felt somehow numb.


	4. Walking in the Moonlight

I remember stopping at the walkway to my house. I had to pause for a moment and look at how the Moon hung like a glowing ivory cantaloupe over the roof. Grandpa had built the house in such a way that the rising moon seemed to sit on top for a little while.

I drank in its brightness and sighed heavily, more of a cathartic sigh to banish the negative vibes of the night. I didn't like being down, and Mihoko could be incredibly frustrating. Like a cat that gets its tail stuck in the vacuum cleaner.

I jingled my keys in the dark, smirking at the metallic noise as it dominated the patch of night leading up to the stoop. Then I frowned, shoving my hands and keys into my pockets. I wanted to share the moment, in its drunken brevity; the amusing thrill of the snapshot in time. I rankled a bit at Mihoko's nonchalance concerning the moon.

The moonlight played shadows on the sakura trees, painting the delicate petals in a pale luminescence; surreal and a ghostly neon. I hopped in a disjointd pattern from cobblestone to cobblestone leading up to the step, jumping onto the stoop and pulling my arms from my pockets, thrusting them upwards in an Olympic victory.

_Live in the moment_, I reminded myself. While I would have certainly loved the company of holding Mihoko in my arms as the night wore on, it didn't mean that the night itself wasn't beautiful. So I cast my mind to other nights, of glorious moons on other eves.

My heart grew warm as I recalled a childhood autumn day, Grandfather carrying me upon his shoulders as the fall festival fireworks burst overhead. The fullness of the memory washed away the worries that had been troubling me.

The memory made all the more vivid from the immaculate white garb Grandfather wore. As the oldest man at the festival, he was probably the sharpest dressed; and brightest, the moonbeams seeming to gather into that ancestral garb.

I could almost smell the scent of sandalwood, the incense that always clung to Grandfather. He lit it religiously in the family shrine, a practice that continued to this day. I blinked, opening my eyes and looking towards the Small practice dojo we had attached to the side of the house, noticing one of the paper lanterns inside was lit and carrying its own warm glow; compliment to the warmth in my breast.

I hopped from the stoop, turning and walking alongside the house, my feet swishing through the dew-kissed grass as I headed towards the glow. I paused a moment, looking down at the grass. Adjusting my gait, I continued on, silently this time.

My head peaked around the corner, looking into the dojo and towards the Shrine wall. The air had snakes of incense floating around, illuminated by the paper lanterns hung on either side of the family Shrine. My mother was dressed in a kimono, which was certainly worth the odd look I was giving the back of her head.

"-And she lacks a complimentary aspect, Father. I know, it is not a Mother's place to be so- picky about the girls her son dates, at least not so openly, Father," My mother pauses, lifting her head, "Perhaps it is because he is growing up, and I am not ready yet to accept that. It seems just yesterday that you were teaching him how to whistle, and now? Girls."

There was some dread mixed with mirth in Mom's voice. I saw her shift a bit, her back straightening as she tensed. I saw her ponytail bob back and forth for a moment, "No, I DO NOT think you would've liked her, and stop being so contrary," She paused again, then sighed heavily, her voice getting irritated, "So what, you are saying that you think I'm being too harsh?"

I shook my own head. Why couldn't my parents talk to dead people normally?

My mom lifted a hand, shaking a finger at the Shrine, "Hey, I recall you weren't exactly easy on a certain young girl, Kana-Sensei," My mother fumed, smoothing her Kimono in consternation. "Besides, the girl makes me feel on edge. I'm not sure why."

I saw her lower her head, a morose tone in her voice, "Oh, I suppose so, Father. You might want to have a talk with him yourself some time. He's got your strong-headedness about some things," She paused, turning her head and looking over her shoulder at me, "Even though he doesn't have the common sense not to try and sneak up on his mother."

I had the good sense to blush, stepping into the doorway, "I- aaah-," It would figure, no matter how quiet I am, Mom always knows I'm there. "S-sorry, Mom. I just saw the light and was wondering who was-"

I blinked, and then she was right in front of me. Arms folded beneath her breasts as she leveled the stone-killing glare at me. "I don't mind so much that you were eavesdropping, as I'd probably have done the same. But You were late for dinner, young man."

My eye twitched briefly as she favored me with her scrutiny. I clapped my hands together and bowed low, "Sumimasen, Mama-sensei," Of course, it only earned me a wrap on the head with her knuckles.

"Oi, what did I say about being so formal? I'm displeased that you were late, I can only imagine what you and Miss Suzuhara were up to," I yelped as she grabbed my ear, grinning mischieviously as she pulled my head up to look at her again, "Well, I hope you two weren't getting TOO active at the movies, I know how you young people can be."

I winced as she let go of my ear, rubbing it I scowled from the pain, "Mom, it wasn't anything like that. I mean, we made out a bit, but-," I paused a moment, meeting eyes with my mother again. "Mom, were you following us?"

Rather than have the sense to be embarrassed, my Mom took on a worried expression; Chewing her bottom lip, her arms folded beneath her breasts again as her eyes looked me up and down, as if comparing against memory. "Sure was, baby boy. I was worried about you, and it looked as if the two of you had an argument. Didn't hear what about, but are you holding up?"

I shook my head, I'd bet another kid would've been furious that their mom was spying on their date. I slid my shoes off and stepped into the dojo, bowing towards the Shrine before I turned back to mom, In the moonlight, she looked very much like a teenage girl. Her bright green eyes stared up at me. "You know you probably shouldn't be following your son around on his date, right? I mean, what if I end up with trust issues, Mom?"

She managed to smile, running her hands down the front of her Kimono. "If I was worried about that, I would've stopped checking on you back in the fifth grade," She clasped her hands behind her, cocking her head to the side, "Hiro, are you alright?"

I turned away, shrugging as I rubbed the back of my head. "I guess so, mom. I mean, it's an argument. Every couple has arguments. Mihoko is just… immature sometimes. It's not like I can blame her. We're two different people," I turned back to her, smiling, "That's the fun of relationships, right? Learning about the other person. Enjoying the company of the difference."

Mom groaned, rubbing her fingers against her forehead, "Oh, my poor butter-headed boy… sometimes, I think you're too easy on things."

"If I'm butter-headed, maybe you're a bit sharp. What WAS that with suggesting I hook up with some of your friends in front of Mihoko?" I crossed my own arms, giving mom my own stern glare. I was never certain if I looked silly when I was being serious.

She held up her finger, "Now now, I only insinuated. Never outright suggested."

"Semantics, Mom. I know you're uneasy with Mihoko, and I guess I can understand some of it," I frowned, remembering again the argument we had had. "But we've been together for three months now, and It would be nice if you could give us a little bit of support."

"Hiroshi, you know a person shouldn't change tactics in mid-stream. She might find it even creepier if I started acting nice to her, I mean, you SAW how she responded!" She held a hand out, palm up as if offering reason, her other hand resting on her hip.

I gave her a flat look, putting my hands on my own hips, "So wait, who is the teenager again?"

Mom gave me that catty smile of hers, her green eyes gleaming in the moonlight, "You can't blame a girl, Hiroshi. She's on my turf, and I'm protective of my little'uns."

I sighed, finding it hard not to smile. "Mom, I love you," It was hard to stay irate. "But you're going to have to try with her. I like Mihoko a lot, and I think she's worth the effort."

She chewed her lip again, a thoughtful look on her face, "It's her boobs, isn't it? Because she lets you-"

I laughed out loud, clapping a hand over my mouth for a moment, "Mom, seriously, that's not it. She's smart, and good company for the most part. I mean, yes, we had a fight tonight… but one fight," She was still giving me that skeptical expression, I growled, "Mom, it's NOT Mihoko's boobs."

"You mean it's not ONLY her boobs," She smirked as she saw me shake my head in consternation.

"Oh, yeah, well. When you put it that way, yes, it's not only her boobs," I threw my hands up, chuckling lightly as Mom giggled for a moment. Then she was quiet.

Slowly she reached out and took my hand, holding it between her own, "Hiroshi, I just want you to be careful. I don't want you to get hurt, and if she makes you happy, I'll do my best to try and be polite."

"No worries, Mom," I gave a heartfelt squeeze of her hand, "Even if things go south, I've got family to help me through."

There was a bit of hesitance, "Yeah, about that," She turned and looked at the family shrine, then back at me.

I'm sure I looked rather confused at her response; it was the best expression to relate how I felt at the time. "Mom, what's going on?" I prodded, as she squeezed my own hand, looking back at me with a supportive expression.

She looked away, giving a strained sort of smile as she tried to put some perk into her voice, "Well, it's kind of mixed news. On the one hand, your sister and niece are coming home to live here for a while," She took one of her hands and held it aloft.

And then the other, "On the other hand, ohhh," She groaned in frustration, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, "YourFatherandIaregoingtoAmericaforayeartoover-seetheAmericanbranchofMiramotoHeavyIndustries," She spat out, hardly a pause between words.

"So you're leaving Memeko in charge of things while you guys are gone," I added, sighing and putting an arm around my Mother. "Mom, you don't have to worry so much. I'm a grown boy, I can deal with romance."

"It's not the romance part I'm worried about. It's the un-romance. You know, the Murphy blues, as your friend always loves to say," Her expression was a flat look, her words said in a husky, semi-serious tone.

"What, you don't trust Memeko to fish me out of the lake and bandage me up?" I saw her open her mouth before I continued in my best imitation of her, "'I trust your sister, Hiroshi, I'd just prefer to be the one doing the bandaging' am I right?"

Mom jabbed me hard with her index and middle finger, right in the ribs, "Cheeky boy," she mewled in a saucy tone. "Yes, I'm your mother and if there's scrapes or bruises to be tended to, I'd prefer it was myself doing the tending."

"I think you tend well enough in other things to let Memeko handle the bumps and abrasions of teenage life," I rubbed where mom had poked me, wincing at how sore it was. "I'm pretty sure if my girlfriend murders me, there'll be enough left for Daisuke to practice scientific resurrection, which I'm sure would only add to the night life of Nerima- OW!"

I rubbed the same spot as before, scowling at Mom, "You could vary where you're jabbing a bit, Mom!"

"To what purpose? It certainly wouldn't be quite as painful, and then you wouldn't have bruises to evidence your mother's ire," She blinked innocently, putting her index to her lips in a thoughtfully vapid fashion, "Should I get the rolling pin, perhaps?"

"Because nothing serves to help romance like a concussion bestowed by a kitchen implement? I'm fairly confident Memeko can bestow such bludgeoning trauma with equal fervor," I half smiled

She pushed me away, batting at my hand as she crossed her arms again, scowling. "I know your sister is beyond her years, and since young Connor's untimely death, she's not one to take another's grieving for granted. I trust that she'd take care of you if you were having difficulties."

"Then what are you so worried about?" I continued rubbing my side, and as I watched my mother's expression, she took on a slightly sad, worried countenance.

She turned, and glided to the family shrine, kneeling she opened one of the small brass boxes sitting at the base of the shrine. She had a small notebook in her hands, and she pressed her lips to its cover, whispering a quiet prayer to the spirit of my Grandfather.

She looked down at the small book, and I felt my brain tickle with memory. My name was messily scrawled on the front of it. I had forgotten all about my journal.

"You will come with me on a walk beneath the moonlight, my son?" Her eyes were focused on the journal as she offered me one of her delicate hands.

I paused, looking at my mother. Her bright eyes seemed filled with a deep sense of solitude, and I again wondered at if my Mother had given up a lot to marry my Father.

"Hai," I said softly, taking her hand in mine. Stepping again to the door, I put my shoes on. My mother's palm was cool in my own, her other hand held the notebook to her breast.

The night was cool, the sounds of crickets playing their see-sawing tune floating. It felt warm beneath the moonlight, despite the briskness of the night air. There was a strange sense of both softness and sharpness.

"Your Grandfather loved you best, Hiroshi. He knew your heart, your spirit. You and he are so very alike," I heard her voice choke slightly, noticing in the moonlight her eyes were glistening. "There are times when you remind me so much of him."

I held her hand a bit more tightly, "I know mom. I know he meant a lot to you," I offered a smile, and she managed one herself, though her moist eyes made the expression either bittersweet or embarrassing.

"Not as much as he meant to you, Hiroshi," She squeezed the binding of the book tightly. "When he was alive, you and he spent so much time together. I sometimes thought that perhaps you should be spending more time with children your own age, rather than your grandfather. Nowadays, I think I was wrong to believe so."

I felt my face frowning. I remembered the Day Grandfather died; he had been in the Dojo, simply sitting; prayer beads in his hands. He'd been sleeping a lot before the end, and quiet; As if there were heavy thoughts on his conscience.

"You're growing up, into a man, Hiroshi. I just want you to become a good man; a great man. I want you to remain the man I saw in you on that day, when your Grandfather passed," She stopped, and I stopped with her as she turned to me. She pressed the book against my chest. "A man that I'm afraid will disappear if he isn't reminded of certain things."

I took the book from my chest, looking down at the cover of it. "I left it for Grandfather, Mom. It should remain there," I held the book back to her. It had been my offering, my expression of my grief over his death. Something I'd left for him to take along in his journey.

She put her hands over mine, gently nudging the book back towards me, "Hiroshi," She sounded ready to cry. "Your soul is deep and providing; it nourishes and is filled with such light." She shook her head, and I could see the tears illuminated in the moonlight.

"M-mom…," I didn't know what else to say. I felt like I should say something, but I wasn't certain. I hadn't seen my mother so emotional before. "What are you trying to tell me?"

She looked up, her eyes determined, even in their sorrow. "I want you to keep that part of you. You haven't written since he died, you spend less and less time in the vault. This busy world, this world of necessity can eat at a person. Your grandfather was like a granite rock in quickly changing times, and if it were not for men like him, women like I would have been cast off the falls to dash on the rocks below."

"I'm worried that you are forgetting yourself with this- this Mihoko girl. That you'll change to accommodate her needs, and that you will just become an accessory to her vision of the world. A vision so stoic and unremarkable that it crushes to be bone," Her tears had stopped, her expression a mask of indifference, even though the tone of her voice had become harshly judgmental.

I had always admired that of my Mother; her ability with words to illustrate an emotion. It was something I had always attempted to emulate in myself. I held the book more carefully in my hands, realizing that my Mother was being serious. "Mom, Mihoko is just my girlfriend, not my fiancée. I'm just seeing how things go."

"And if they don't go anywhere, Hiroshi… will you just shuffle on? Grief is important, it allows us to re-examine our life and consider if we may not have strayed from where we need to be. Too often in this day and age, people are pushed on, encouraged to forget and move on. Forget where you've been, go blundering forward and up-end the applecart."

I reached up and brushed some tears from my Mother's face. She held my hand there briefly. "If I recall, Mrs. Miramoto, you knocked over quite a few in your time."

She barked a short laugh, smiling up at me. "I will so miss you while we're gone, my son. You will take good care of your sister and Kaehmi won't you?"

It was odd thinking of my sister as being accompanied by my niece; I was still unaccustomed to thinking of myself as someone's Uncle. I was too young to be extended family.

"Sure… and I'll keep the book. Read it. Maybe it'll remind me of something," Mom stood on her toes and kissed me on the forehead.

"Where falls the rain, there the soul is cleansed. Though falls the snow, there is time for heart's to mend. Where the sun shines, our dreams dwell in the deep. Beneath the moon's gleam, our hearts find faith to leap," Mother recited, patting a hand softly on my chest.

It had been something my Grandfather had said, something he'd repeated often enough to be annoying to people who didn't know him. It had always been something that left me thinking on what it meant. I shook my head, having had enough recollecting for the night.

"Mm. Is there any dinner left?" I asked, my stomach grumbling lightly.

Mom smiled, wiping at her cheeks with her fingertips as she looked up at me. "Of course, I wouldn't let my only son starve to death on his three month anniversary. Wouldn't be proper, what would the knitting club think?"

I chuckled lightly. "Oh, that you were just getting on with normal punishment for your children."

She jabbed me again, causing me to groan, though this time she was smiling. "I love you, Hiroshi. Don't you ever forget that I love you very much."

"I know, Mom. You remind me enough of it," I reached up and ruffled her hair affectionately.

She gave me an evil look as she carefully rearranged her hair before attacking me with her fingers.

"GAH! NO!" I managed before I burst into laughter, my hands trying futilely to fend her off. The sound of my laughter mingled quite nicely with the moonlit sky.


	5. A Green Pen and Baseball

I have to admit, Akiko Shinozumi had quite the legs... or at least what I could see of them. She's the mathematics sensei, third period. She'd always wear these short, just-above-the-knee skirts and-

Where was I? Oh. Well, Math period... other than Shinozumi-sensei, it was fairly boring. For my part, I studied well enough but math always seemed like an impractical thing in most cases and lacking much utility for my personal style. I guess even a hot teacher can't make linear equations sexy. At least not without a riding crop and some leather chaps.

I leaned my head back while I sat, turning it to one side to watch Daisuke; the boy had smuggled in a soldering iron and was going to work on his T-1, the dark goggles hiding his eyes probably shielded to prevent retinal damage. Not that he likely needed it, but as he likes to say, "Half of Science is fashion for effect! Mwahahaha!"

Yeah, Daisuke was basically bored in math; he probably should've been in a higher function class than I was, but he didn't like the idea of breaking up Captain and Tenille.

I frowned at my thought. Which one was I, I wondered? I hoped that I wasn't the one wearing the dress and required to sing. I might have the voice of a nightingale, but I always felt like I was naked when someone handed me a Mic and specifically wanted me to sing.

Naked and covered in african army ants.

Shinozumi-sensei turned back after finishing writing on the board, "I want all of you to study chapter seventeen and do problems one through one hundred. I expect that won't be too much for most of you, but if you have any questions you can feel free to drop by after-school. I'll be here with the chess-club."

She didn't have half-bad of a smile either, considering some of the other teachers. The bell rang moments after she finished speaking.

I grabbed the twelve pounds of brain melting and soul-crushing equations bound in mass-manufactured cardboard as well as my bento and began the zombie shuffle to the exit. Daisuke joined in beside me with a morbid expression, still wearing those rocking goggles as he nodded noncommitally to me, likely thinking the same undead thoughts as I.

Briefly I looked at the windows behind the students crowding in behind me; you know, it would be pretty convenient to just be able to hop out of one of those. Well, convenient to both hop out and not break half your bones from the stop at the end.

Turning back, I found that Daisuke had somehow melted into the crowd. I ducked down the stairwell and hopped out next to the field to find a seat for lunch. I rolled out to one of the sakura trees right outside the baseball field to watch some of the younger students taking their swings, leaning up against the bark as I flipped open my bento. The smell of Pork buns visciously assaulted my nose like a street boxer roughs up a rookie; right, proper and ugly.

Just the way I like it. Well, not women. Just the smell of pork buns. Swallowing my hunger, I grabbed at the two delectable orbs and promptly shoved both of them quickly into my mouth, leaving barely enough room to chew.

As I deftly decided not to choke, I also reached into my pocket and pulled out the small journal Mom had handed me, running my fingers across the surface of it as I managed to swallow a portion of the pork buns, continuing to work my way through them.

My eyes stung a bit as I recalled the day my grandfather had died; it had been probably the sunniest and most beautiful day I'd ever seen, the sapphire sky seemed to contain a quiet luminescence. I shook my head, closing my eyes for a moment before I unbound the elastic band and opened the journal to a random page.

In neat Kanji on the right page, it said, "Journey's are not always for the vagabond. Sometimes the wind brings those who wander home to who needs them. We are always seeking something, and much times cannot ourselves find fulfillment. As the master tells us, the empty hand cannot receive; but also it is that the open hand is wanting, and the heart does not always know what it yearns for. Sometimes the open hand can only receive what is given from outside the circle, and is closed for all others."

I swallowed the rest of my pork bun, almost hearing the calm cadence of my Grandfather's voice reciting such things as my small hands felt harried to get every word down as if each were small revelations from the I Ching. My eyes glided to the left page, reading the words written there.

I murmured them quietly under my breath, even as I found myself smiling, "Don't drink Sapporo, for beer is like pig swill. Sake is warm and satisfying to the soul, the friend and probably the ladies too. Also don't drink Sake cold. People will think you are crazy, and you probably are."

Yeah, Grandpa was like that. I rubbed at my eyes, finding that I'd teared up a bit. Rebinding the notebook, I slipped it back into my pocket and continued with my bento, having assassinated the pork buns I moved my death claws to the delicious Unagi, shoveling them into my mouth with delicious and mouthwatering abandon.

Looking up as I licked the barbeque from my fingers, I saw Mihoko sidling towards me. I savored the look of her knee-socks and how her skirt seemed to sashay with her hips. I slowly rose and leaned against the tree for support, giving her my best smile. She was holding something out to me, though for a brief moment I'd been imagining her in a leotard performing swan lake...

My eyes connected with hers, and I cleared my throat, rewinding what I might've heard in my head. "Uhm, I don't know." That's the ticket, Hiroshi! Admit you were fantasizing rather than paying proper attention.

"This! Your weird friend, he's planning something," She thrust a paper into my hand, crossing her arm's beneath her bosom and accentuating some of my favorite curves. "You'd better not check it out, it'll only lead to trouble."

I gave her one of those plaintive, kicked puppy looks, "He's my friend, what trouble could we get into?" Yeah, I know. Famous last words.

Smoothing the slightly crumpled paper, I inwardly groaned as I saw Daisuke on the flyer, sporting those goofy goggles from earlier and what looked like an MP hat, a urgent digit pointing to the viewer of the flyer. "Nakano's Army wants YOU! Are you looking for the thrill of excitement, the rush of adrenaline? We're talking war, war, WAR!" I paused in reading to look up to Mihoko who was giving me a disapproving look, as if she knew that I probably wasn't going to listen to her about not going.

Yeah, you know, those 'Laser Eyes' that girls have.

Clearing my throat and pulling a bit at my collar, I looked at the address at the bottom. "Okay, so it's some silly flyer Dai conjured up. Maybe he's having a movie party again or something."

She strolled around the tree, then leaned against it, her arms still crossed as she somehow looked down at me... despite the fact that she was an inch shorter than I am. "The last time you two got up to something, you were both suspended for a week for-"

"-Concocting a very real mass murder scene for Zombie Week. Hey, most of those dummies were made of ham," I grinned as I remembered that week. Sure, it wasn't fun being in the lock-up for potential murder before forensics came back with pork positive, "I still remember Daisuke gnawing on that false arm in the cell."

She persisted with her insidious and maddening glare, like an animated jack-hammer with tunnel-vision. And boobs. I stopped leaning against the tree and smoothed my uniform with my free hand, "Come to think of it, where did Daisuke get so much ham?"

"Hiroshi!" Now she had that frustrated, pleading tone of voice. You know, that tone girls get when they are frustrated with you not paying attention, even if maybe you are paying attention but they use that tone as if you aren't and... moving on.

I took one long look at the address then heaved a deep sigh, crumpling the flyer and tossing it at the nearby trash-can, only to miss by several inches so that I had to rush over, pick it up and toss it in yet again. I heard Mihoko follow me, and turning I gave her a stearn if a bit morose expression.

"Mihoko, while I greatly value your boobs, I am sorry... but my loyalty to General Nakano is insurmountable," Her eye twitched in a somewhat cute, if irate manner when I mentioned her boobs. Clasping a hand to my breast and closing my eyes, I put on my best tone of melancholy, "Were it not for General Nakano, All of my goats and sheep would now be dead and my family would not survive the winter."

I opened one eye to look at her, the cold expression she was giving me as she ran a hand through her hair then rubbed briefly at one temple. "Hiroshi, you're going to get yourself in trouble."

Then I clasped her hands suddenly, focusing on making my eyes mist, "Oh Mihoko, my darling, please do not force me to choose between my allegiance and my love, for- for I would be split in twain! Honor and country or peace and happiness? Oh, the difficult choice!"

I saw her facade start to crack a bit, a slight quirk of the lips right there in the corner. "Hiroshi, isn't Daisuke supposed to be the melodramatic one?"

I stared into her eyes, tilting my head slightly as I squeezed her hands. "Hey, I've got my moments too."

"Well don't. It's unflattering," Her tone was serious but her smile said otherwise. "I forbid you to go."

I turned away from her, the back of one hand pressed plaintively against my brow, "Then I must betray my love and steal away, for my army needs me, and the General commands it!" I leaned heavily upon the wall, as if forlorn of my decision. I could feel Mihoko debating whether she should hit me with something upside the head or indulge in my dramatic flare.

I heard her give a deep sigh, resigning herself to the inevitable. "Maybe I could come with you and try to do some damage control."

I spun, holding out a hand and placing it right on her boob. Her right boob. Right on her right boob. "You ah- you shouldn't-" I quickly removed it as her eyes gathered those soul burning inferno's sweltering in my direction, warning me of pain and punishment if I didn't heed the previous argument we'd had about groping her in public. "I mean, Mihoko, that this is a guy's thing. You'd probably be bored and, well, I know you think Daisuke is an eccentric sort-"

She shifted her weight to one foot, one hip sticking out as she again crossed her arms, her slender eyebrows lowering in an intimidating, if incredulous, expression, "You say that as if I'm the only person who thinks that about your weird friend," She gave a quick chirp of laughter as she waved her hand in mid air, "Trust me, there's no way that anyone else in the student body hasn't already figured THAT out."

I shoved my hands in my pockets, feeling the worn leather binding of my notebook pressing against my fingertips as I looked at Mihoko's eyes. My fingers traced the edges of its bindings, the sensation of the tightly bound pages pressing furtively against my skin, "I don't get to spend much time around Daisuke since we started dating, and we've known each other since we were toddlers."

Quietly she looked at me, her eyebrows not as questioning or incredulous, wearing one of those cool and expressionless masks that cause men to sweat for miles. "I know, Hiroshi. I'd like to come along if you don't mind. Hey," She clasped her hands in front of herself, looking down for a brief moment as a gentle smile actually appeared. "I know he's important to you, and I don't want to interfere. Could you just humor me?"

I groaned, looking up at the clouds in the sky and wondering if clouds ever had girlfriend problems. Likely not, considering they were mostly made up of water vapor. I had the good sense to scowl at the last thought; that one was Daisuke's. He hadn't been around much and I'd been filling in some of his more common reactions. I knew I wasn't about to win with Mihoko. "Fine, fine, you can come too. But Daisuke'll have to vet you for whatever he has planned."

"Afterschool, then. I'll see you later," She leaned up, looking a bit nervous and kissed me softly on the lips. I blinked several times, noticing her blush as her fingers seemed tangled rightly in the pleats of her skirt, knuckles white.

"Y-yeah, I'll see you then." I touched my lips, it was the first time she'd kissed me out in public. Looking around, I saw that a few people had noticed, and heard the chime of a few girlish giggles directed at us.

Turning my head back, I saw Mihoko hurrying back inside, her head down and the back of her neck noticably red.

I fished my journal out of my pocket and opened it to a random page again, having to flip back as I'd turned into the blank areas of the book. "Hearts are often like the butterfly that you try to catch with the net; you chase and chase and your efforts are ill-rewarded. Ah, but Hiroshi, if you stand as the tree with palms open, then you will find your hands full."

I smiled as my words seemed to hang in my mind for a moment, closing the book and holding it to my lips as I considered the words I'd read aloud. Tilting my head back, I wondered aloud to myself. "Sounds a lot like Ranma."

I spent a bit of time reading from the start of my old journal. Wedged between my Grandfather's aphorisms were personal thoughts of mine at six and seven years old, written in a surprisingly steady hand. With each sentence there was a lingering memory as brilliant and vibrant as the first day experienced. It was as if old and familiar toys were being brushed of cobwebs and dust, the feeling about as tangible as holding an old snow-globe whose music box still works.

The kind of thoughts that made my heart pound and ache as my mind struggled to contain the feelings they conveyed with each turning of a page. Fortunately, the bell saved me from any unfortuitous breakdowns in front of ball-playing girls. Though trust me, my eyes were a bit hazy while I was jaunting back in, hand tucking the journal back into my jacket pocket.

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful, well, other than Happosai attempting to convince the Rhythmic Gymnastics team that he was actually the substitute teacher; his old lady costume was fairly convincing, not that Ranma'd let him get away with any such nonsense. Oh, and Then there was the fight Ranma had with Kunou during the final period, I had heard something about a failed marriage attempt between Akane and Ranma.

Just a regular day in Nerima, really. Heck, it was par for the course for Furenkin. I was dwelling on all the craziness that Ranma had brought to our prestigious school in his short time here while I bounced down the steps at the end of the day, daydreaming about the various events and excitements.

In my daydreaming, I found myself wandering past the school swimming pool and I paused, looking into the swimming pool at a floating baseball. It seemed to swirl about, being pushed around by the jet currents in the pool and just going around and around in circles. I must've watched it for a good five minutes before I noticed someone else was standing on the other side of the pool.

Looking up, I noticed the red-hair and chinese slacks. I stared for a moment, not really certain why, but there was something... odd about this moment. Strange in a way that words couldn't describe. I held up a hand and waved silently. Ranma looked up and waved herself.

"Hey, Hiroshi!" She said, looking about as dazed as I was. It was only a moment later that I saw Akane tugging on Ranma's shirt. The redhead looked at Akane and turned to walk off with her. I noticed they stood closer together now, and as they talked they both wore a calm and accepting expression, as if they'd been through something profound.

I shook my head, wondering at the two of them. I felt warm inside that the two of them were finally getting along somewhat, wondering what might've happened on their China trip to smooth out some of the wrinkles in their relationship. I also found myself praying to the spirits to watch over them. While I'd certainly miss the craziness around the two of them if it suddenly stopped, everyone deserves a bit of happiness.

In all honesty it was a little like letting out a breath you'd held too long, seeing them getting on with each other. And to match the metaphor, I let out a deep breath myself, smiling as I watched the two of them walk off.

I turned a few minutes later, hearing Mihoko coming up behind me and smiled at her, one hand in my pocket and the other holding my school bag. "Hey there you."

"Hey yourself, what's with the silly grin?" She fell into step beside me as we started walking, her hands holding her schoolbag in front of her as she walked. "It- doesn't have anything to do with- uhm, that kiss, does it?" She asked, sounding rather concerned.

"What? Oh no, not that. It's just Ranma and Akane; They finally seem to be getting along," I breathed in deeply again and exhaled, holding my hands up as I raucously exclained, "The day is green, the sky is clear, the sun is warm and the wind is cool! What a fine moment to be alive."

Mihoko gave me a look like I was an unexpectedly dead fish on her bedpillow. "Are you alright, Hiroshi?"

I held my arms up higher, as if wanting to hug a cloud. "I'm great! Moments like these give me energy. It is immortal moments of warmth that show us our kinship." My words only seemed to make the flutter in my heart more ecstatic. I patted my pockets, tugging out my journal and then searching for a... for a...

Mihoko held a pen out to me, it had a marble finish to it in a deep forest green color. "Ah, thanks Mihoko." I felt my own cheeks blush this time as I cracked the book open and wrote my thought within, "Cherish immortal moments, undying and eternal; for wonder and joy live in them."

I turned the pen to close it as I looked down at the words I'd written. I felt tingles on my skin; it had been years since I'd written anything in the book, and years still since I'd considered anything in it. There was the definite sense of walking into a musty attic, pulling away cobwebs and brushing dusty leather suitcases and boxes to peer in vereration of bygone memories.

"Are you alright?" She asked me, and looking up I saw that her expression was guarded and strained. "I've never seen you so-"

I laughed a bit, "It's okay," I held up the notebook, awkwardly as I handed the pen back, "Just something I used to jot down thoughts in when I was a kid. Haven't done that since my Grandfather passed."

Mihoko's expression looked a bit relieved, perhaps a touch of apologetic? She held her hand out, "Keep the pen... and I'm sorry about your grandfather."

I looked down at the pen, then at Mihoko before rebinding the notebook and hooking the pen onto the front cover. "It's alright, he died quite a while ago. It's been years since I even talked much about him to anyone." Huh... come to think of it, before Mom brought it up the other night, I hadn't really spoken about him since the funeral. Weird.

No worries, though. Shaking my head to free it of the wanderlust, I smiled again at Mihoko, "Are you certain you want to come along? It might end up being something really crazy, and weren't you worried about getting into trouble?"

"I'm worried about YOU getting into trouble, Hiroshi," Her cheeks colored as she looked down at the sidewalk as we started heading towards the warehouse. "I'm a girl, I couldn't possibly get into as much trouble as you boys frequently do."

Tucking the notebook back into my pocket, I puffed out my chest, "Well, boys will be boys, Miho-chan."

She groaned exhaustively, "Yes, that is after all what I'm afraid of."


End file.
